Make me remember you! Blake

6 months later

-Goodbye, Mrs. Dawson!

-Well, Amber! See you tomorrow! Don't forget to bring your watercolors for the painting class!

My last student that day was waving at me when she got into her mother's car.

As soon as I saw them leaving, I went back to class, grabbed my bag, and went home.

I was a teacher for three-year-old students in the baking school, and I could say with all my heart that I loved my job.

My children always gave me positive energy, even on hard days. I mean very hard.

I didn't have much to go home and I walked the road. It took me 25 to 30 minutes. A time when I was contemplating the landscape and clearing my thoughts.

I opened the door of my house, took off my shoes, and walked across the living room to the kitchen.

I had a small house in the quietest and nicest part of Seattle. It was the exact opposite of where I had grown up. Extremely crowded and noisy because it was close to the city center.

I opened the fridge and sat in front of it for almost five minutes without really wanting anything. Lately my appetite has been very low if not non-existent.

I saw that the light of the landline phone was on, so I pressed it to listen to the message:

-... Hi, honey!

My mother's voice sounded soft and cheerful.

"I just wanted to remind you that . " this Sunday we have lunch together . Okay, call me when you get the message. I love you! I decided to get some orange juice. I poured myself into a glass and drank a mouthful and then left it on the counter where it will probably stay until I realize I won't drink it anymore and throw it in the sink as I did with most food lately. My house has no floor. It's just simple. A Hall. A slightly larger living room. A kitchen. A bathroom and a bedroom. I went into the bedroom and undressed and then went to the shower.

When I went out, I avoided looking at the mirror as we try every time I wasn't wearing a pair of long pants and a sleeveless blouse, and I was in front of the mirror.

I always think I'll get used to what I see, but I realize I'm just lying to myself.

I look at my body in the mirror and I feel like pouring that mouthful of juice I drank because I can't ignore what I see.

I can't ignore the thin red lines that cover almost my entire body.

It looked like someone, maybe an artist, had passed a red brush over a completely white canvas.

It's just that canvas is my body.

There was another color on my body, though. On the collarbone, on the left side, just above the heart, was written in black SKY ink.

I had no idea where it came from or what it meant. I didn't even remember getting a tattoo, but a lot of things have been confusing to me lately.

I turn my head and clench my fists trying to breathe normally. I get dressed and get out of the bathroom.

I start watching TV but I realize after half an hour that I wasn't really paying attention at all so I stop him and go to bed.

I go to bed and turn off the light knowing that sleep won't come too soon. Yeah Al that sounds pretty crap to me, Looks like BT aint for me either. I already have enough medicine to take. I don't want to add more to the list for as long as possible.

***

When the rays of the sunrise flood my room, I realize that I have not slept at all and the worst part is that today is Saturday.

I hate Saturdays because I don't have a schedule to have fun with. I have nothing to do all day and that makes me feel crazy so I always make sure to find an activity.

Today, for example, I'm going for a walk.

After I get dressed in a pair of long jeans and a long-sleeved yellow blouse to make sure it covers any marks on my body, I leave the house.

The first time I walk around the neighborhood but then I move on until I get closer to the city.

I learned to walk quite a lot. I mean, I'm going everywhere on foot because my car is in a junkyard, crushed. Basically I was crushed with her too, my scars show that. But the car reached the scrap metal pit and I was still reintegrated into society. Trying to rebuild my life after everything that happened.

Basically, the accident itself didn't traumatize me because I can't remember it. All I know is from my family and my doctors.

I was alone in the car. It was raining outside and someone entered my lane. I and the one who had injured me survived. He was in jail now, and I had no idea who he was because I never wanted to know his name.

The accident hadn't necessarily changed anything in me. And not even the 8 weeks of intensive care that followed. Something had changed in me but I don't know what. I always feel like I'm looking for the answer to a question without even knowing what the question is.

***

I decide to go into a store, it's an art store. I walk through it and study time on different canvases, brushes, colors and pencils.

I don't buy anything so I walk out of the store and keep walking the streets.

***

On Sunday morning, I wake up and get ready for lunch with my family.

I am wearing an ankle-length skirt and a low-cut blouse that covers my arms.

The only good thing is that I don't have scars on my face, I probably would have had to wear a scarf or a mask then and that wouldn't have been very pleasant.

I catch my blond hair in a light ponytail and apply a little mascara just to get more attention from my dark circles.

I walk to my parents' house and I'm in no hurry to get there.

I love my parents and I know that they were with me during the difficult times, but unlike the children I teach, who have no idea about my accident, my parents know. And he always looked at me as if I had help and shoes. It's as if I could break every move.

I enter the house without knocking on the door and go straight to the backyard where I know my parents will be.

I see my mother talking to Mrs. Blake, one of her best friends, and my father talking to Mr. Blake preparing the fire for the barbecue.

As soon as she sees me, my mother smiles and comes to me to hug me:

- Hi, honey!

- Hi, Mom!

- Come on downstairs, Mrs. Blake and I were just talking about what color we should paint the fence ...

But my mother's words are interrupted by another male voice coming from behind me:

-Hey!

I turn around and when I look back, my eyes meet a pair of attached blue eyes and a brown hair, arranged so that it looks ruffled.

He is wearing a pair of simple jeans and a gray T-shirt that stretches over his well-made chest.

When his eyes meet mine, he smiles and in his left arm appears that little hole that I remember from adolescence:

- Steven Blake! I say.

He smiles.

"Kayla Dawson!"

Steven comes up to me and pulls me lightly to hug him. I answer the embarrassed hug.

-How are you? he asked with a big smile on his face

. "I'm fine."

-I heard you were teaching again.

I nodded. I didn't know Steven very well. I mean, I've known him since I was 16, and we moved to Seattle because my older sister was seeing her older brother, and we occasionally met.

But I think it's been more than three years since I've seen Steven. Last time I think it was at our brothers' wedding that makes us brothers-in-law. Hmm, I hadn't even thought about it before. However, it had changed a lot, much more mature than I remember. But in principle, after I woke up after the accident, the whole world seemed different to me.

-Steven! Are you going to bring that meat once?

Mr. Blake shouted. Steven nods, gives me another big smile and then disappears into the house to bring the meat to the grill.

I sit at the table and listen to my mother talk to Mrs. Blake about what color to choose for the fence, but for the house, when Steven sits in the chair next to me.

- So I stayed with the fact that I'm teaching again.

I look at him and smile.

"Yes, I love children ... and teaching them makes me think of everything."

He nods as if he understands me.

I turned better in my chair to see him.

"Why aren't you in New York?" What made you come to Seattle?

Steven and Jensen have an IT company in New York, so he lives there, as far as I know.

Steven looked at me a little harder before answering,

"I have some things to do here."

I nodded as if I understood. I've never had a job that is too far from home, so I don't know what it's like to be away from home for a week on business.

-Do you want me to bring you something to drink? he asks me

-I don't drink alcohol ...

-... when you eat meat.

He concludes my words. I frown. That's right, I never drink alcohol when I eat meat because it doesn't make my stomach sick. I know that. Maybe my mother knows, but I doubt it, but how does Steven know that?

-Maybe a juice? he asked, still with a smile on his face

. Thank you!

My thoughts are interrupted when my father puts a large bowl of grilled meat on the table.

-Come to dinner!

I get my attention from Steven and try to figure out how to make him look like I'm eating when I'm not really hungry at all.

***

I walk home again.

I lock the door, take off my shoes and put my bag on the living room table.

I'm going upstairs.

I change into a T-shirt and go to bed.

I look at the ceiling.

I close my eyes.

I'm trying to fall asleep.

But I can not.

I open my eyes and stare at the ceiling for hours.

It's morning.

I get out of bed and the ritual is repeated. 6 months later

On Monday, at the end of classes, Zoya, who is teaching in the class next to me, appears in class:

-Hey!

-Hey!

I smile at them as I take my bag from the chair and go out into the hallway. She comes after me:

-So we talked to some colleagues, and we decided to go out for a drink after work? And I was wondering if you'd like to come too?

-During the week?

-Ah, come on! You don't have to stay long!

Zoya looked at me with wide, gentle eyes.

I bite my lip trying to find an excuse I couldn't go for, but nothing plausible comes to mind.

Zoya knows that's probably what I'm doing, so she adds,

"Come on, Kay!" You haven't been out with us in a long time!

That's right. I don't even remember the last time I went out with my friends. It must have been before the accident.

I sigh and give in:

-Okay!

Zoya claps her hands:

"See you at Eta at half past seven!"

I nod and leave school.

***

At seven I leave the house dressed in a pair of black jeans and a white blouse that is very soft.

It covers my arms and any part of my body where the scars could be on the cousins.

I let my blond hair fall out and fall on my shoulders.

I walk to the place where I have to meet my colleagues.

When I enter, Zoya, Carly, Megan, Zack and Matt are already there.

Zoya smiles when she sees me, gets up from her chair, comes to me and hugs me:

-You came!

I hug her too and try to smile as we head to the table where our friends are.

I greet them and they greet me too.

Matt smiles at me and makes room for me next to him.

I sit down:

-What do you want to drink?

-The water.

Megan snorts,

"You can't drink water in a bar."

But Zoya cuts her short

. "She can't drink what she wants!" I'm going to get you water!

He smiles at me and then glances at Megan as if telling her to leave her alone . I don't feel comfortable anymore. Clary begins to tell us about a student in her class who glued another classmate to her chair. Everyone laughs and then one by one each tells about their students. I just sit quietly in my chair, take a sip, and listen to the conversation. I look at my watch and when I see it's nine o'clock, I take my bag and get up: -Well, I'm retiring. -Already?

-So early?

-Well, I have classes tomorrow in the first hour!

Matt smiles.

"We all have!"

I smile too. Zoya takes me in her arms once more and tells me how happy she is that I came and then I leave the place.

The city is lively in the evening. Even if it's Monday.

I walk past some shop windows and look inside. I pay attention to the decor of a restaurant I pass by and I don't even notice when a door opens in front of me.

He almost stumbles upon me.

I lose my balance and fall to the bottom. Right there. In the middle of the sidewalk.

- Are you ok?

I look up and see a wide smile and some familiar blue eyes:

-I'm fine.

Steven holds out his hand and helps me up.

I smile a little embarrassed:

-I have to be more careful where I go.

I adjust my clothes and look up at him again.

He looks at me:

-Do you have work in town? Are you dating anyone?

-Not. I went out with some co-workers. I was going home.

He nods

. And I just finished a business dinner. I can take you home. he proposes to me

-Oh, I don't want to bother ...

-It's no problem. Steven smiled sincerely

at me for a moment. Then I nod:

-Come on, my car is just around the corner.

He puts a light hand on my back and leads me in that direction.

His car is a Mercedes, the latest model. Glossy black.

He opens the door for me and I'm pleasantly surprised by his gesture.

Steven starts the engine and the car moves smoothly on the asphalt.

After the accident, the first time I got in a car again, I thought I would feel something.

That maybe I'll feel claustrophobic. Or scared. Or maybe I'll remember something from the accident.

But none of this happened.

It seems that I have no problem driving again:

-Do you have classes tomorrow morning?

Steven's voice makes me dream:

-Ah, yes! I teach from 7 to 2 in the afternoon.

Steven nods and says nothing more.

The silence in the car is pleasant. Not overwhelming. Not embarrassing.

I wink at Steven.

He has both hands on the wheel, and his expression is calm, relaxed, but he still seems tense.

The way his hands tighten the steering wheel betrays him.

The car stops and when I look out the window, I realize that we are in front of my house.

I unbuckle my belt:

-Thank you for bringing me.

-With pleasure!

I get out of the car:

-Well, I think I'll see you around here!

-Surely!

He nods and the way he answers me promises much more than he shows.

I wave them as I walk away and walk through the little ones to my door.

When I enter the house. I stop for a moment and realize that I haven't even told him where I live.

Of course.

Maybe it was from Jensen or Sarah, or maybe my parents. I shake my head to clear my mind. I analyze everything too much. That's my problem.

I lock the door and go to the bedroom.